And furious close of civil butchery, The earl of Douglas is discomfited; 10 Of Athol, Murray, Angus, and Monteith. [of. A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not? In envy that my lord Northumberland 20 Of my young Harry. O, that it could be prov'd, Of this young Percy's pride? The prisoners, West. My liege, this haste was hot in question, Came from the north, and thus it did import. Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour; [friend. West. This is his uncle's teaching, this is Wor- K. Henry. But I have sent for him to answer this; Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we 45 K. Henry Here is a dear and true-industrious 50 SCENE II, [Exeunt. An apartment belonging to the Prince. Enter Henry, Prince of Wales, and Sir John Falstaff. Fal. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? P.Henry. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack, and unbuttoning thee after supper, and sleeping upon benches afternoon, that thou hast orgotten to demand that truly which thou would'st truly know. What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the day? unless hours were cups of sack "Ho 3 Mr. Steevens proposes to read lead for lery. i. e. expedition. Limits for estimates. linshed in his History of Scotland says, "This Harry Percy was surnamed, for his often pricking, Henry Hotspur, as one that seldom times rested, if there were anie service to be done abroad." * Archibald Douglas, earl Douglas. A balk signifies a bank or hill. Balk'd in their own blood, may therefore mean, lay in heaps or hillocks, in their own blood. 'Mr. Tollet observes, that by the law of arms, every man who had taken any captive, whose redemption did not exceed ten thousand crowns, had him clearly for himself, either to acquit or ransom, at his pleasure. Whom (Mr. Steevens adds) Percy could not refuse to the king, as being a prince of the blood royal, (son to the duke of Albany, brother to king Robert III.) and whom Henry might justly claim by his acknowledged military prerogative. ? Dr. Johnson says, to prune and to plume, spoken of a bird, is the same, 8 And and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping-houses, and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flamecolour'd taffata; I see no reason, why thou should'st be so superfluous to demand the time of the day. 5 Fal. Indeed you come near me now, Hal: for we, that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars; and not by Phoebus,-he, that wand'ring knight so fair. And, I pray thee, sweet wag, when thou art king,-as, God save thy grace, 10 (majesty, I should say; for grace thou wilt have none.) P. Henry. What! none? Fal. No, by my troth; not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter. P. Henry. Well, how then? come roundly, roundly. thy quips, and thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a buif jerkin? P. Henry. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern? Fal. Well, thou hast call'd her to a reckoning, many a time and oft. P. Henry. Did I ever call thee to pay thy part? Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there. P. Henry. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; and, where it would not, I have us'd my credit. Fal. Yea, and so us'd it, that, were it not here apparent that thou art heir apparent,-But, I pr'y15 thee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when thou art king? and resolution thus fobb'd as it is, with the rusty curb of old father-antick the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief. Fal. Marry, then, sweat wag, when thou art king, let not us, that are squires of the night's body, be call'd thieves of the day's beauty'; let us 20 be-Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon: And let men say, we be men of good government; being governed as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we-steal. P. Henry. No; thou shalt. Fal. Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge. P. Henry. Thou judgest false already: I mean, thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves, and so 25 become a rare hangman. P. Henry. Thou say'st well; and it holds well too for the fortune of us, that are the moon's men, doth ebb and flow like the sea; being governed as the sea is, by the moon. As for proof, now: A purse of gold most resolutely snatch'd on 30 Monday night, and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with swearing-lay by2; and spent with crying-bring in: now, in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder; and, by and by, in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows. Fal. By the Lord, thou say'st true, lad. And is not my hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench: P. Henry. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle'. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance*? Fal. How now, how now, mad wag? what, in 1 35 Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my humour, as well as waiting in the court, can tell you. I P. Henry. For obtaining of suits"? Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits'; whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy as a gib' cat, or a lugg'd bear. P. Henry. Or an old lion; or a lover's lute. Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. P. Henry. What say'st thou to a hare', or the melancholy of Moor-ditch? Fal. Thou hast the most unsavoury similies; and art, indeed, the most comparative', rascalliest,sweet young prince,-But, Hal, I pr'ythee, trouble 40 me no more with vanity. I would to God, thou and I knew where a commodity of good names 3 i. e. Mr. Steevens is of opinion, that our poet, by the expression thieves of the day's beauty, meant only "Let not us who are body squires to the night, i. e. adorn the night, be called a disgrace to the day." He afterwards adds, that a squire of the body signified originally, the attendant on a knight: the person who bore his head-piece, spear, and shield; and that it became afterwards the cant term for a pimp. swearing at the passengers they robbed, lay by your arms; or rather, lay by was a phrase that then signified stand still, addressed to those who were preparing to rush forward. Warburton, in commenting upon this passage, says, "This alludes to the name Shakspeare first gave to this buffoon character, which was sir John Oldcastle; and when he changed the name he forgot to strike out this expression that alluded to it. The reason of the change was this: One sir John Öldcastle having suffered in the time of Henry the Fifth for the opinions of Wickliff, it gave offence, and therefore the poet altered it to Falstaff." Mr. Steevens, however, has, we think, very fully and satisfactorily proved that sir John Oldcastle was not a character ever introduced by Shakspeare, nor did he ever occupy the place of Falstaff. The play in which Oldcastle's name occurs, was not, according to Mr. Steevens, the work of our poet, but a despicable piece, prior to that of Shakspeare, full of ribaldry and impiety from the beginning to the end; and was probably the play sneeringly alluded to in the epilogue to the Second Part of Henry IV.—for Oldcastle died a martyr. The sheriff's officers of those times were clad in buff. The meaning therefore of this answer of the Prince to Falstaff's question is, "whether it will not be a sweet thing to go to prison by running in debt to this sweet wench." Shakspeare here quibbles upon the word suit. The prince uses it to mean a petition; Falstaff, to imply a suit of cloaths. The cloaths of the offender being a perquisite of the executioner. i. e. an old he-cat, Gilbert, or Gib, being the name formerly appropriated to a cat of the male species. 'Dr. Johnson says, that a hare may be considered as melancholy, because she is upon her form always solitary: and according to the physick of the times, the flesh of it was supposed to generate melancholy. Alluding, perhaps, to the melancholy appearance of its stagnant water. i. e. the most quick at comparisons. 8 5 were were to be bought: An old lord of the council rated me the other day in the street, about you, sir;] but I mark'd him not: and yet he talk'd very wisely; but I regarded him not: and yet he talk'd wisely, and in the streets too. P. Henry. Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it. good fellowship in thee, nor thou cam'st not of the blood royal, if thou dar'st not stand for ten shillings. P. Henry. Well then, once in my days I'll be a 5mad-cap. Fal. O, thou hast damnable iteration'; and art, indeed, able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon me, Hal,--God forgive thee for 10 it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it over; by the Lord, an I do not, I am a villain; I'll be dainn'd for never 15 a king's son in Christendom. P. Henry. Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack? Fal. Where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one; an do not, call me villain, and baffle' me. I P. Henry. I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying, to purse-taking. Fal. Why, that's well said. P. Henry. Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home. Fal. By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king. P. Henry. I care not. Poins. Sir John, I pr'ythee, leave the prince and me alone; I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure, that he shall go. Fal. Well, may'st thou have the spirit of persuasion, and he the ears of profiting, that what thou speak'st may move, and what he hears may be believed, that the true prince may (for recreation sake) prove a false thief; for the poor abuses 20 of the time want countenance. Farewel: You shall find me in East-cheap. Fot. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation. Poins!Now shall we know, if Gadshili have set a match. 25 O, if men were to be sav'd by merit, what hole in heil were hot enough for him? Enter Poins. This is the most omnipotent villain,that ever cry'd, P. Henry. Good morrow, Ned. P. Henry. Farewel, thou latter spring! farewel, All-hallown' summer! [Exit Falstaff. Poins. Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us to-morrow; I have a jest to execute, that I cannot manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto, and Gadshill, shall rob those men that we have already way-laid; yourself and I will not be there: and when they have the booty, if you and 30I do not rob them, cut this head from my shoulders. P. Henry. But how shall we part with them in Poins. Good morrow, sweet Hal.-What says monsieur Remorse? What says Sir John Sack-and-setting forth? Sugar? Jack, how agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou soldest him on Good-Friday 35 last, for a cup of Madeira, and a cold capon's leg P. Henry. Sir John stands to his work, the devil shall have his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of proverbs, He will give the devil his due. Poin. Then art thou damn'd, for keeping thy 40 word with the devil. P. Henry. Else he had been damn'd for cozening the devil. Poins. But my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four o'clock, early at Gads-hill: There are 45 pilgrims going to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purses: 1 have visors for you all, you have horses for yourselves: Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester; I have bespoke supper to-morrow night in East-cheap:50 we may do it as secure as sleep: If you will go, will stuff your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry at home, and be hang'd. Fal. Hear ye, Yedward; if I tarry at home, and go not, I'll hang you for going. Poins. You will, chops? Fal. Hal, wilt thou make one? P. Henry. Who, I rob? I a thief? Not I, by Poins. Why, we will set forth before or after them, and appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at our pleasure to fail; and then will they adventure upon the exploit themselves: which they shall have no sooner atchieved, but we'll set upon them. P. Henry. Ay, but, 'tis likely that they will know us, by our horses, by our habits, and by every other appointment, to be ourselves. Poins. Tut! our horses they shall not see, I'll tie them in the wood; our visors we will change, after we leave them; and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram for the nonce', to immask our noted outward garments. P. Henry. But, I doubt, they will be too hard for us. Poins. Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true-bred cowards as ever turn'd back; and for the third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, P'il forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the incomprehensible iies that this same fat rogue 55 will tell us, when we meet at supper: how thirty, at least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this lies the jest. my faith. P. Henry. Well, I'll go with thee: provide us Fal. There's neither honesty, manhood, nor 60lall things necessary, and meet me to-morrow night The meaning, according to Dr. Johnson, is, thou hast a wicked trick of repeating and applying holy text; alluding to the prince having said in the preceding speech, wisdom cries out, &c. note 2, p. 415. ' i. e. All-saints' day, which is the first of November. Shakspeare's allusion is designed to ridicule an old man with youthful passions. i. e. for the occasion. i. e. confutation. 2 See in East-cheap, there I'll sup.. Farewel. Poins. Farewel, my lord. [Exit Poins. P. Henry. I know you all, and will a while up- SCENE III. 5 Were, as he says, not with such strength deny'd, Hot. My liege, I did deny no prisoners. And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held 15 He gave his nose, and took't away again;- With many holiday and lady terins He question'd me; among the rest, demanded 25 then, all smarting, with my wounds being cold, An Apartment in the Palace. Unapt to stir at these indignities, Which the proud soul ne'er pays but to the proud. North. My lord, 35 And that it was great pity, so it was, [lord, 45 Betwixt my love and your high majesty. K.Henry.Worcester, get thee gone, for I do scel 1i. e. exceed men's expectations. 2 i. e. I will from henceforth rather put on the character that becomes me, and exert the resentment of an injured king, than still continue in the inactivity and mildness of my natural disposition. Moody is angry. Frontier was anciently used for forehead. A small box for musk and other perfumes then in fashion; the lid of which, being cut with open work, gave it its name; from po n cner, to prick, pierce, or engrave. Snuff is equivocally used for anger, and a powder taken up the nose. A popinjay is a parrot. Against Against the great magician, damn'd Glendower; Hot. Revolted Mortimer! He never did fall off, my sovereign liege, He did confound the best part of an hour In changing hardiment with great Glendower: North. Brother, the king hath made yournephew mad. [To Worcester. Wor. Who struck this heat up after I was gone? Hot. He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners: 5 And when I urg'd the ransom once again Of my wife's brother, then his cheek look'd pale; And on my face he turn'd an eye of death',' Tiebling even at the name of Mortimer. Wor. I cannot blame him; Was he not proclaim'd, 10 By Richard that is dead, the next in blood? North. He was; I heard the proclamation: And then it was, when the unhappy king (Whose wrongs in us God pardon!) did set forth Upon his Irish expedition; 15 From whence he, intercepted, did return To be depos'd, and, shortly, murdered. Wor. And for whose death, we in the world's wide mouth Live scandaliz'd, and foully spoken of. [then Three times they breath'd, and three times did 20 Hot. But, soft, I pray you; Did King Richard they drink, Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood; K. Henry. Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost belie him, He never did encounter with Glendower; Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer North. He did; myself did hear it. Hot. Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin king, 25 That wish'd him on the barren mountains starv'd. But shall it be, that you,-that set the crown Upon the head of this forgetful man; And, for his sake, wear the detested blot Of murd❜rous subornation,-shall it be, 30 That you a world of curses undergo; Being the agents, or base second means, The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather?— O, pardon me, that I descend so low, To shew the line, and the predicament, I tell thee,he durst as well have met the devil alone, 35 Wherein you range under this subtle king. As Owen Glendower for an enemy. Art not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth [Exit King Henry. Here comes your uncle. Re-enter Worcester. Hot. Speak of Mortimer? Yes, I will speak of him, and let my soul Shall it, for shame, be spoken in these days, Or fill up chronicles in time to come, That men of your nobility, and power, Did 'gage them both in an unjust behalf,— 40 As both of you, God pardon it! have done,To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose, And plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke! And shall it, in more shame, be further spoken, That you are fool'd, discarded, and shook off By him, for whom these shames ye underwent? No; yet time serves, wherein you may redeem Your banish'd honours, and restore yourselves Into the good thoughts of the world again: Revenge the jeering, and disdain'd' contempt, 50 Of this proud king; who studies, day and night, To answer all the debt he owes to you, 45 Even with the bloody payment of your deaths. Wor. Peace, cousin, say no more: The reason why he says, bargain and article with fears, meaning with Mortimer, is, because he sup posed Mortimer had wilfully betrayed his own forces to Glendower, out of fear, as appe. next speech. ' i. e. curled. 1i. e. an eye menacing death. Tose. i. e. disdainful, i. e. of a spear laid across. The canker-rust is the dog |